Unpredictable
by marzipan sprite
Summary: Malfoys are unpredictable, it's a rule. They lie and manipulate. So why trust one? DG. Rated R for sexual content.


Unpredictable.  
  
Notes: This is dedicated to the lovely Jess for being eternally stroppy because I don't write more 'dirtiness' than I do! And to my beta, Nicole, a job well done as always dahlink! I am planning to write a sequel on this, but it will appear faster with encouragement, so please review!!  
  
Disclaimer: Neither the world or the characters in this are mine. They are the property of the God of Rowling. May all worship and pray to her... begging not to be sued. ;p  
  
I closed my eyes and imagined the scene before me. My knees were curled up to my chest and my head was resting on the cool stone. Sun was filtering through the window space, reflecting the lush grounds back at me. Basking in the sun, I couldn't have been more at peace. Abandoned classrooms certainly have their merits.  
  
And, with those there are of course disadvantages. Like, when egocentric, arrogant prats decide to stroll in and ruin my refuge.  
  
This particular prat happened to have those silver-grey eyes everyone loves to hate, a tall slender form, which he is only too happy to demonstrate its strength to you. And soft locks that are always slicked back, with those few strays that dare to obscure his vision, not enough, unfortunately, to make him walk into a wall.  
  
I am obviously talking about Draco Malfoy.Draco Malfoy.  
  
After I had finished my observation of him, which I can tell you did not go unnoticed, he is an egocentric bastard after all, I found that he had been talking to me, and I had not heard a word because I was still staring at him in supposed rapture. Bugger.  
  
Now he was looking at me with one of those perfect eyebrows raised. "So?" he said.  
  
"So what?"  
  
"So why are you here? This is my spot."  
  
"Your spot eh? I don't see Draco Malfoy's ownership claims scrawled anywhere."  
  
"Well then you must be blind..."  
  
Before I could question that, he spoke again.  
  
"It's written all over you."  
  
Now I was scared. What was he on about? They say madness runs in the Malfoy family, but...this kind of madness?  
  
"What do you mean Malfoy?" I said, slowly. "I don't understand."  
  
"I didn't expect you to, you are, after all, a Weasley."  
  
I was on my feet immediately, outraged. "What are you implying Malfoy? And how can my family ever be worse than your pile of inbred idiots?"  
  
Quicker than should be allowed even for a Hogwarts seeker, he grabbed my wrist and twisted it, painfully. He brought his face up to mine with the utmost care, after all he mustn't have enjoyed touching me, and hissed into my ear.  
  
"Don't you ever dare to make assumptions about my family, and don't ever compare my family to your pitiful excuse. Ever."  
  
His breath was tickling me as he spoke those words perfectly and slowly, enunciating with precision only he would ever bother with. I felt like crying. Why did he say those things about my family? What had I ever done to him?  
  
Existed I suppose, yes that would be it, my very existence was too much for him to bear and he was going to make me pay for it, or so he thought.  
  
I squared my jaw and glared defiantly at him. "I don't know what you think you're trying to pull Malfoy, but it isn't working."  
  
He looked angry for a second, then an inconceivable expression appeared on his face. "Oh isn't it?" he said, in a horribly sly voice. It made shivers run down my spine. He stretched out a long finger, and stroked it down my face, following it with his eyes.  
  
My hands were still in his grasp and I yanked them back quickly, trying to show I wasn't afraid. But I was, I was fucking terrified. He was so unpredictable, he had just been insulting me, and now he looked like he was trying to seduce me. What would he try next?  
  
The second I took my hands back, the odd atmosphere broke and I moved away. "So where were we Malfoy?" I said, hoping to get that coy look off his face. "Why do you think this is your spot?"  
  
He sighed. "We've gone over this."  
  
I snorted. "What that I have your ownership claims scrawled across me. Malfoy, are you on drugs?"  
  
Being completely ignorant of Muggle affairs he hadn't a clue what I was talking about, and I just got a blank look. I rephrased my question.  
  
"Malfoy, are you deranged?"  
  
Now I was talking in his language. He began to walk towards me again.  
  
"I think I may be Weasley, no sane Malfoy would ever..."  
  
I was about to correct the inaccuracy of that sentence; no Malfoy was ever sane, when the breath was completely knocked out of my body.  
  
He had half-thrown me against the wall and covered my mouth with his. It took me several seconds to get over the shock of this, and I remained cold against him. Just before I slipped under the ebbing tide of madness that seemed to be flooding my body I snapped back to myself. I shoved at his chest and managed to push him back a little. It gave me time to regain my anger.  
  
"What on earth do you think you're doing Malfoy? Get away from me! What ever it is you're trying to pull, I don't want to know. Is it some bet or something? Why are you doing this?"  
  
His expression was suprisingly soft. "For someone so pretty Weasley, why do you find it so hard to believe I could want you?"  
  
I answered without hesitation. "Because you've hated me ever since you laid eyes on me. I refuse to believe that can change so quickly."  
  
"A lot can change in two months Weasley."  
  
He was referring to the summer holidays we had just finished. Just over two months. No, it wasn't possible.  
  
"I don't see how a Death Eater induction could have changed your feelings towards me so dramatically."  
  
"Now, now," he said, in a voice bordering on patronising. "There's no need to be like that. I'm not a Death Eater. Look."  
  
He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a clean white arm. He wasn't a Death Eater. How odd.  
  
"I've had a lot to think about since my parents have gone. A lot has changed. I've made a lot of mistakes and I realise that. Is it so hard to believe I might want to reconcile those mistakes?"  
  
"Yes," I said defiantly, whilst he began to stroke my face again, his warm breath on my face.  
  
He smiled once more. But there was something about that smile I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Well I want to."  
  
He didn't wait for my rebuke this time and he began a steady assault on my mind and senses, before I really realised what he was doing.  
  
He started to pull up the edge of my shirt. "Malfoy. Stop it."  
  
"You're beautiful," he said.  
  
"Stop it," I said again, quietly. I couldn't believe he was sincere. He couldn't be. Yet he was so different. He was looking at me in a way I had never really been looked at and I think I liked it.  
  
He started to apologise for his manners in the past, saying it wasn't his fault. Nothing was ever Draco Malfoy's fault.  
  
His hand was now on my stomach and it was inching its way up. His mouth was descending to mine again. That was it. I couldn't help it. I don't think I cared if he was sincere or not, it just felt too good. I didn't think I could stop him, and I didn't want to.  
  
One slender hand came up to hold my face, and the other trailed circles down my back. I stopped resisting completely and began to tug at his shirt, mirroring his own hand that was steadily unbuttoning mine. I closed my eyes, partly out of pleasure, partly because I didn't want to know this was happening. My mother would be so disappointed in me.  
  
If I had opened my eyes at the moment I would have noticed a triumphant smirk on his face, before he lowered his lips to my now exposed abdomen and began to work his way down.  
  
I leaned back against the wall and sighed quietly. He was good, but of course he was, it wasn't like the boy was inexperienced. I'm sure those rumours were true.  
  
I felt his hands rip off the pleated school skirt and toss it in a pile with our shirts. I could feel my panties being pulled down and landing in a puddle on the floor. I groaned and drew his mouth back up to mine for another searing kiss. My senses had completely left me, I was now effectively at his mercy.  
  
I laced my fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck. They were just as soft as they looked, despite the gel.  
  
I gasped sharply as I felt his hand at my entrance. His skin felt like it was burning, or was that mine?  
  
He slipped a long finger inside me and I clung onto him even tighter. I wasn't sure how well my legs would stand up to this. I started to writhe and moan under his ministrations and I saw that slanting smile of his through half-closed lids.  
  
He seemed satisfied with my reaction and decided to divest of the last of his clothing. Soon he stood in just his boxer's shorts. I reached for the waistband of them and tugged desperately. I think I heard him laughing. He then laid me down on the ground, making a makeshift bed from our recently forgotten clothing. I tugged again and his boxer's shorts were properly off.  
  
His weight settled on top of mine, and I felt the heat of his skin. I tried to reach behind my back and remove my bra but considering I was still lying down this wasn't possible. I arched my back and he reached behind me to do the task himself.  
  
I stared at him for a moment, and there was complete silence. His eyes were burning into mine. I had never seen so much fire in his expression before. He reached down for one last kiss before swiftly, he lay inside me.  
  
I could feel a painful buzzing sensation but I paid it little attention, I was too busy with the whirling he was creating in my head. His hands were all over me, making sure he conquered every inch of my body, like no one had ever done. Making sure I was his. Maybe that's what it was. This was his revenge for me daring to exist.  
  
These thoughts were taking up valuable space and I was soon no longer capable of such intelligence. He continued to thrust inside me, stoking the burning sensation as high as it would go. I lifted my hand to his forehead and stroked a damp tendril of hair from his eyes.  
  
"You are beautiful," he said to me again, only this time in a whisper. I almost cried, no one had said that to me before, or, not like that.  
  
His pace began to quicken and I closed my eyes in ecstasy. His mouth was back on mine, and I moaned quietly into him. I was drawing lazy circles and shapes on his back, half-drunk with the pleasure.  
  
For another second I felt nothing, and even though it wasn't the case I thought I couldn't hear anything. Then everything came crashing down around me and I heard myself screaming his name.  
  
He lay on top of me for a while, panting quietly. I could hardly breathe, and I certainly couldn't form a coherent thought.  
  
He drew back from me and helped me to my feet. Maybe he was a gentleman, but I had a feeling gentlemen didn't ravish young women in abandoned classrooms.  
  
At last, I went to pick up my clothing and dressed slowly. He did the same, but much faster and he reached over to place a gentle kiss on my mouth. Then he walked out.  
  
It took me a while to realise, I still wasn't thinking straight. He had gone. Left me. On my own. The bastard.  
  
I left the classroom looking sadly out the window. I would never come here for refuge again.  
  
At supper I saw Draco over at the Slytherin table. He was laughing. And one of his idiotic cronies was unsubtle enough to point at me. I saw some money being put into Draco's palm, and a hand slapped down on his shoulder in respect.  
  
So I had been right. It was a bet. And he had succeeded. Well, he was the Unpredictable Immortal Draco Malfoy after all. How could he not succeed?  
  
Unpredictable indeed. I think I had known all along. 


End file.
